Valour Forgotten
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Many songs would be sung of the Battle of Helm's Deep. Of the Deeping Wall, the Hornburg. Of the Last Ride of the Rohirrim, and the coming of the White Wizard. None however, would remember what had transpired within the Glittering Caves. Of valour without renown, and blood feeding steel.


**Valour Forgotten**

Standing in the Great Hall of Helm's Deep, looking at food unfinished, and drinks half drunk, Éowyn, daughter of Éomund, found herself having the urge to take some wine for herself, even if it be without the merriment. After having so narrowly escaped oblivion, to embrace the kind that only the red liquid that made Men mad could provide.

Soon, the great fortress of Helm Hammerhand would fall silent again. A small garrison would be left behind in its place, to fly the green and white flag of Rohan, and to stand in silent vigil to those who had given their lives to defend it. The people would return to Edoras, guarded this time not by a paltry convoy of Royal Guard, but a full 2000 riders, sitting atop their mounts in their armour, their banners guiding the people home. This, while King Théoden and a small entourage would ride to Isengard, to bring the White Wizard to justice, and take recompense for his crimes against the realm. And she? She would be in the centre of that column, guarded by those willing to die for her, so that when her king returned, she may find food and bedding for her father, her brother, and their companions. Even now, as twilight spread across Middle-earth, as fire eternal scorched the sky to the east, it appeared that her fate was as it always would be. To wait behind while those with steel fought on her behalf, so that the steel which surrounded her would stand eternal.

Only it was worse now. Worse, because she had finally tasted battle, and like a man adrift at sea, was left with nothing but saltwater to slake his thirst. Worse, because the time had come for battle without renown, and even if it had not been the end of all things, renown had not come her way. Worse, because-

_Oh to the Valar with it!_

She grabbed one of the cups and chugged down the wine. Not enough to slake her thirst, and even further from enough to give her a taste of oblivion. So, with scarce a moment of hesitation, she took what was left of the second, then third, then fourth. Red liquid passed between her lips, as surely as it been on the fangs of the uruk-hai that had thrown themselves against the walls. Some of it their own, some from the flesh of men they had begun to consume before Théoden's charge, so confident were they in victory. So consumed was she in her thoughts, was that it was only by the time she picked up the fifth glass that she stopped. As she looked out of the corner of her eye, to see the interloper standing in the archway between sun and stone. The glass was at her lips, but no liquid was drunk, and her right eye was as wide as an expanse of grass.

"Oh don't mind me," the interloper said. "Please, go on."

Her cheeks burning, Éowyn slowly lowered the glass back down to the table.

"Said don't mind me," the interloper said.

"I would say…" Éowyn paused, catching her breath, her mind, and what was left of her dignity. "I would say that it is irrelevant what you say, because in the world we live in, I do believe that what I say has more weight than what you say, unless you too can claim lineage from the House of Eorl."

The interloper said nothing.

"Well?" Éowyn asked.

"That was a bit complicated, but I understand." The interloper walked into the hall. "And no, I cannot claim lineage from any great house, let alone any lineage from this country, though I have called it home these past years." She walked up to Éowyn and extended a hand. "Morwen is my name, and my only one."

Éowyn just stood and stared.

She'd known the interloper was female – she'd been around women all her life, and had endured their chattering longer than she could bear. That Morwen was a woman did not surprise her. What _did _surprise her was that she carried herself differently from most…actually, _all _of the women she knew. Most apparent was that she was clad in leather armour, with a pair of battle axes slung over her back. The armour was stained with blood, and given that she appeared not in pain, Éowyn could only suppose it was the blood of Isengard rather than that of Rohan. But again, the way she stood, the way she talked – so different from the old and the young, who were happy to listen to tales of heroes rather than seeking to forge their own. So different from mothers who had begged that the warriors of Rohan not take their sons off to war, it never occurring to them that they might be served better if they carried shield and sword as it had been in days of old. Morwen struck Éowyn as the type of woman who'd beg to be taken herself, and given her attire, weapons, and the smell of blood on her, that wish had apparently been granted.

"Morwen," Éowyn murmured. "Two I know by that name, and you are not either."

"Indeed?"

"Well, one has bones as old as the rock of the Deep, and the other has long been taken to the Halls of Mandos. So as you are not only young, but living, I must conclude that you are a third."

Morwen smirked. "You really have to talk so formally?"

Éowyn scowled, and began to tidy up what was left of the food and drink.

"Hey, didn't say you have to do that."

"What do you want, Morwen?" Éowyn asked.

"Many things, none of which you can provide," she said.

"Then why are you here?" Éowyn kept tidying up, putting the food, drink, and empty plates in a corner. She would go this far, but no further – there was a garrison that would be staying here, they could finish the damn tidy up. It would be as nothing compared to the thousands of bodies that lay inside and outside the fortress, many of which were fated to be burnt.

"Truth be told, my companions and I are setting out for Osgiliath," Morwen said. "I had hoped to give my farewells to Gimli the dwarf, but alas, we have already parted ways."

Éowyn glanced at Morwen. "Osgiliath," she murmured. "The city of Gondor?"

"Yes. Fought at Helm's Deep, so now we fight there. I-"

"You fought," Éowyn said blankly. "Here."

"Yes. What, didn't the armour give it away?"

"You fought," Éowyn repeated – the signs had been there all along, but now the truth of things was kicking her like a horse. "You, a woman, after the king bid us hide in the caves like scared rats?"

Morwen shrugged.

"How?" she snapped. She walked forward to the woman. "Tell me."

They were similar in height, but Éowyn could tell that she was failing to be as intimidating as she'd hoped. She was clad in a black dress, worn in memory of the dead. Morwen had the benefit of arms, armour, and the lack of steel holding her in place.

"Arrived late I guess," she said. "Also, wearing a helmet does help in hiding one from prying eyes."

"A helmet," said Éowyn blankly.

"That, and when you turn up with a man of Gondor, a ranger, a dwarf, an elf, and a member of the Royal Guard, I suppose one such as myself doesn't stand out much."

Éowyn was barely listening, so consumed was she at the thought of helmets right now. A means of protection, but evidently, also a means of disguise.

"You listening?" Morwen asked.

Éowyn, trying to smile, but putting on more of a grimace, said, "why yes, Lady Morwen, of course I am."

"I'm not a lady. Least not in the royal sense."

"Be grateful for that, for that is why in years ahead, you will be able to tell people about your great deeds in the Siege of Helm's Deep." She walked around to the other side of the table and sat down, rubbing her hands over her forehead and eyes.

"And Osgiliath," Morwen murmured. "Though from what Gandalf said…" She trailed off, and took a seat opposite Éowyn. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Éowyn snorted.

"I mean, the people speak of your own deeds in the battle, and-"

"Do they?" Éowyn asked. She met Morwen's eye, her voice and gaze betraying her enthusiasm. "What of it?"

"Oh, that uruk-hai broke into the caves, that as your uncle charged, some didn't pursue him, but otherwise kept going."

_So they know. They finally know. _Éowyn couldn't help but smile.

"Granted, that's only a few. Most people speak of the charge from the fortress, and the charge of your brother's Rohirrim."

And the smile faded. "Of course they do," she murmured, finding herself desiring more wine. "Victory, but without valour or renown."

Morwen raised an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

Éowyn didn't say anything. The prisoner could not argue with the jailer, even if that jailer lived her life far from the cell. And besides, talking of her battle in the Glittering Caves, it took her mind, as well as her heart, back to those moments. To being the only line of defence between monsters and maids. To draw out her sword, and at last cut through something other than air. She had woven in and out of the pillars of the caves, striking from the side, and retreating before the lumbering brutes could react. It had not been some glorious charge, or an honourable duel, but it had been battle. By its end, a dozen uruks lay dead at her feet, her sword, and her hands, coated with their blood. It had been glorious. It had been her dreams fulfilled. At last, after decades of smashing her sword against the cage named life, she had cut through the bars, and in turn, armour and flesh.

And it had meant nothing. None would remember the "Battle" of the Glittering Caves. If the West survived the darkness of Mordor, if songs were composed of Helm's Deep, they would speak of the two-hundred bowmen of Lothlórien coming to the aid of Men. They would speak of the Deeping Wall, of the Hornburg, of deeds both great and terrible. Of the horn that signalled the Last Ride of the Rohirrim, of the coming of the White Wizard with the rising of the sun. None would speak of a skirmish in the caves. No songs, no tales written for Éowyn, Théoden's sister-daughter.

"My lady?" Morwen asked.

Éowyn forced a smile at the woman opposite her. "I give you fair wishes for Osgiliath, Lady Morwen. I hope that in the coming war, tales will be told in your honour." She got to her feet and began to walk off. "For the Valar know that not all of us are granted such privilege."

Morwen called out to the White Lady of Rohan, but only sound, rather than words, reached her ears. Black was her dress, and black was her mind, even as she stepped out from under stone and into the cold light of day. For the days were growing colder and darker, as a shadow reached from the east, blanketing lands, and darkening hearts.

_Hail the victorious dead, _Éowyn reflected. She glanced at one of the fallen banners of Isengard, the black and white mixed with the green and white of Rohan, both of them torn and stained. _Hail the forgotten._

* * *

_A/N_

_So, this came from two ideas sort of merged together._

_First part is that at some point in _The Two Towers _(the live-action movie), Éowyn would have fought uruk-hai in the Glittering Caves. There's some footage and still-shots available, but it never made it into the extended edition (along with many other deleted scenes). That said, I've come across differing accounts as to when exactly the battle was meant to occur. The most common explanation is that the uruks she fights are ones that don't chase after Théoden, but instead press onto the caves. However, in _The Two Towers _GBA game, plus _The Lord of the Rings: Weapons and Warfare_, the battle is depicted as occurring soon after the breach of the Deeping Wall. Like, maybe there's an entrance to the caves on the other side of the wall, perhaps? _

_Since I prefer the extended editions to the regular editions, you might think I'd actually be for this scene to being included, right? That said, I'm not sure if I am. Thing is, if __Éowyn did fight uruks in the caves, and killed all of them, then the whole "you can't go into battle because you're a woman" angle becomes much harder to justify. I'd argue it also diminishes __Éowyn's arc of seeking battle, but finding no further desire for it after the Pelennor. _

_The other idea comes from _The Third Age _\- y'know, that RPG game I'm overly attached to despite having noticable gameplay and story shortcomings. So, like, how did Morwen get to fight at Helm's Deep when all the women were sent to the caves? The Doylist answer is that it would be unfair from a gameplay standpoint to remove a party member for an entire act of the game, and, sure, that makes sense. However, there's no in-universe explanation, and no-one even bats an eye. I dunno, maybe no-one cared at that point, or maybe wearing a helmet fooled everyone, or maybe Eaoden put in a good word for her - because debuffers and glass cannons are good together or something. But even then, I couldn't help but wonder how __Éowyn would have felt about Morwen getting to fight and her not._

_Anyway, drabbled this up._


End file.
